


Gotcha

by eiramew



Series: Cold War Dynamics [5]
Category: Iron Lady (2011), Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:10:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11511039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiramew/pseuds/eiramew
Summary: Belgrano case, 1982.Kinnock is too angry to talk to her. Thatcher is too stubborn to listen to him. Sparkles in perspective...





	Gotcha

**Author's Note:**

> Title reference: [Gotcha!](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/5/58/The_Sun_%28Gotcha%29.png)

The Prime Minister was surprised to find her political opponent in front of the 10 Downing Street, on a Sunday. She wondered how many hours he had been waiting , since she just came to pick up a few papers she forgot to take with her when she left on Saturday evening. He was standing next to the door frame, hands in his pockets, resting his shoulder against the wall. Margaret climbed two steps and stopped in front of him.  
  
''What are you doing here? What do you want?'' He seemed angry, tired and bitter.  
  
''We need to talk.'' She rolled her eyes and plunged her hand into her purse to find her keys.  
  
''About what? Can't you wait until Monday, like everyone else? '' Neil slid his hand inside of his jacket and extracted a letter.  
  
''About that.'' The Prime Minister immediately recognised the letter she wrote him a few days ago, when he accused her of having torpedoed the Belgrano without thinking of the consequences. Her reply was formal, but she still took the time to deal with every points he made. She also deplored his behaviour and reproached him to undermine the Prime Minister / Leader of the opposition relationship.   
  
''Did you come to apologise?'' She asked as she pushed the door.   
  
''I hope you're bloody kidding me!'' She entered and turned around to close the door.  
  
''You still don't want to apologise? I have nothing to tell you then.'' Kinnock slid a foot between the door and the frame before she could close it completely.   
  
''It's too easy to slide away like this Margaret, and you know it.'' She tried to push him away but he caught her wrist.  
  
''Leave me!''  
  
''You'd better let me in. Or the Press will be delighted to photograph this scene! You're lucky there's no-one around for the moment!'' As he felt her hesitating behind the thick wood, Neil pushed and entered the famous number 10, both for the first and probably last time, he felt obliged to admit to himself. She slammed the door behind him and folded her arms. The quiet mockery he could read in her eyes witnessed the total awareness she had of his hardly hidden amazement.   
  
''You've got 5 minutes. No more.'' The Prime Minister warned him as she pushed the door of her cabinet. Kinnock followed her inside and let his hand sliding on the wooden table. Margaret watched him but remained silent as he predicted a wicked comment.   
  
''So'' He began, pulling the letter out of his pocket. ''About that...''  
  
''Yes!'' She cut him short. ''The only thing I will hear about that is your apologies!''  
  
''How dare you? You even accused me of jeopardising our 'relationship' ! I'm actually surprised to discover that we had one!''   
  
''Really? She teased. A relationship between a Prime Minister and the Leader of the opposition is something based on respect, talking and mutual understanding, in case you didn't know!'' He banged his fist on the table.  
  
''Yeah? And that's why you're obstinately and constantly refusing to listen to me?!'' Thatcher gave him a threatening look.  
  
''I did everything in my power! I asked you if you wanted to talk about this, and you refused! But the worst thing is that we could have talk about it! And if we had, you wouldn't be here, barking at me like a silly dog!'' He pushed a chair and faced her, their two bodies only separated by a few inches.  
  
''Well, at least I came! So don't say I refuse to talk to you! '' 

"Oh really Neil? _Really?!_ " She said, her deep voice resounding angrily. "Alright. You came. You came on a _Sunday,_ after spending weeks hidden behind you desk like a coward, declining any opportunity to talk to face to face, and when you eventually decided to make a concrete move, you come here to blame me _personally_ because you have no valuable political argument left !"

The accuracy of her words unbalanced him for a moment, and Margaret decided to pull the trigger again. 

"You're so weak Neil, weak! Weak! Weak!" 

The deep anger he was trying to hide since the beginning of their conversation amplified so intensively through his body that he had to grab the table with both hands, unconsciously preventing her from escaping his embrace. 

"How dare you?! Calling me weak when you just sit at your desk and snap your fingers to get hundreds of soldiers killed and waste thousands of innocent lives!"

Thatcher pushed him hard, but he still remained close to her.

"Because you think this is easy?! It's not only about the Army, not even about the Falklands. It's about the British citizens, here and abroad. The Falklands are _British,_ and so help me God, they will remain this way!"

Kinnock seized the table again.

"Will you put your goddamn pride aside for a moment and think about all the families of the young men who died for a cause that wasn't even worth it! You treat them as if they were _meat!"_

She grabbed the desk and straightened up to stare coldly at him.  

"What do you think the world is made of, Neil? Do you really think there's a _good_ and an _evil_ side? We live in a world where you cannot act without making compromises and sacrifices!"

He bared his teeth at her, his forehead turning red and a blazing flame burning into his eyes. 

"As _sacrifice_? Did you just call that a bloody _sacrifice_?! We're talking about the wasted youth you've sent to the slaughterhouse, not about an unfortunate pig chosen to be eaten on Sunday!" The Prime Minister grabbed his forearms and tried to get rid of him, although he was still firmly pinning her against the hard wood. 

"They served the _Nation!"_

"They served the Nation's _interests!"_

Her hands clenched and she dug purposefully her nails into the skin beneath his white shirt, making him squeak. Neil answered by roughly seizing her shoulders. She yelped.

"They served Britain and the Commonwealth forces! How can you be so blind and stupid?!"

"Well!" He shouted "Because I prefer to be blind and stupid rather than a heartless wicked b -"

"Yeah!" She Yelled "Say it! Say it!" 

She was almost panting against him, her mouth exhaling quick, hot breathes. He swallowed hard and rose a hand to cup her face.

"A heartless, wicked b... beautiful... Prime Minister"

She opened her mouth, astonished, and found herself caught into a hot, passionate kiss. At first, she froze completely, but as she felt his hands going for her waist, she pushed him away.

"What on earth do you think you're d- " The Welsh silenced her with another kiss, lifting her body and settling her on the table. She smacked him fiercely.

"Leave! Now! Or I'll call the police!" She yelled.

Neil looked right into her eyes and licked his lips.

"Take off your skirt."

Shocked, Thatcher struggled to keep her voice steady.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What? You wanted me to _improve_ our _relationship_." His hand brushed her inner thighs. The Prime Minister winced and grabbed roughly Neil's chin, bringing his face closer to hers.

"I want an official, proper handwritten letter of apologies. And your hands off me."

"No." He replies, and for a short moment, she wondered if he was talking about the letter or his hands. "No, I won't write anything."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I started to write this story a while ago and decided to post it kinda unfinished. Might be updated :)


End file.
